I love cats so much that I cannot stay faithful to just one. Wilhelm knows! He 'senses' it....
Tuesday, May 6, 2025
Monday, May 5, 2025
Video: Launching The First American into Space
On this day in 2021, NASA (National Aeronautics and Space Administration) uploaded the above video, a then 60th anniversary celebration of astronaut Alan B. Shepard's spaceflight — America's first. It was a great technical success, paving the way for the moon landings: with Shepard commanding Apollo 14, the third such mission to succeed.
Mercury-Redstone 3 "Freedom 7" launched 64 years ago today and its success was celebrated the world over, partly because the mission was broadcast/televised live, and not done in secrecy. (Yuri Gagarin's Vostok 1 flight a few weeks earlier was kept under lock and key — as per the Soviet way — till the Cosmonaut was safely back on mother Earth).
Alan B. Shepard, American Hero.
Alan B. Shepard — First U.S. Astronaut in Space
"It was really exciting!"
When I was a little one of five or six years of age my mother told me the story of an important event from just a few years earlier. It was the United States of America's first manned spaceflight, and the astronaut's name was Alan Shepard. Everyone had gathered around the television to witness an important part of human history.
This was the first time they were able to see a manned rocket launch. The Soviets had not broadcast to the world, or even its own citizens, the lift-off of Vostok 1 three weeks earlier, and only after Yuri Gagarin returned safely to Earth from his orbital flight did they announce this stellar and humanity-changing feat. The name of the hero cosmonaut then travelled around the globe.
Citizens of the Earth could not be made to feel as participants in a great adventure until the National Aeronautics and Space Administration got to show its stuff.
Mercury-Redstone 3 ("Freedom 7") was to be a suborbital mission: Shepard's spacecraft would follow a planned ballistic trajectory. A big arc. The Mercury capsule would be shot into space, then float at high speed for some time before Earth's gravity initiated its re-entry.
One interesting element of the mission was that, unlike Gagarin's trip, which was fully automated, Shepard would take some control of his spacecraft. While up there, free from our planet's atmosphere, he manually operated the attitude control system in order to test Freedom 7's pitch, roll, and yaw capabilities, proving them to be properly functional.
The fifteen-minute voyage was a great technical success: The capsule went 101 miles up and flew 263 miles "downrange". The splashdown took place in the Atlantic Ocean. Shepard and Freedom 7 were recovered by waiting U.S. Navy vessels. (John Glenn's orbital flight would not happen for ten more months. Two cosmonauts will have already orbited the Earth by that time.)
Alan Bartlett Shepard Jr was chosen to pilot MR-3 some months earlier by Project Mercury head Robert Gilruth. Competition was fierce amongst the program's seven astronauts. Not only were these men skilled test pilots ― as were all U.S. astronauts in the earliest days of space flight ― but they were equipped with the latest in personality types: Gus Grissom, for instance, who would become the second American in space, did not say much minute-to-minute during training, but when he made it known he was about to whisper something to his fellow astronauts they would shut up, lean forward, and wait for the expected words of profundity.
Shepard, on the other hand, was more gregarious by nature. He not only spoke a more regular beat, when he had something important to relate you'd better be listening, and if you didn't take your work seriously or were at any time sloppy in your training, at least from his perspective, you were sure to hear about it.
They were of a special breed: Shepard, Virgil "Gus" Grissom, John Glenn, Scott Carpenter, Wally Schirra, Gordon Cooper, and Deke Slayton (who was grounded for medical reasons).
I know way too much about this whole subject. Before I go on any further I'm going to execute a deorbit burn. (See?)
But first:
On May 5th, 1961, sixty-four years ago today, NASA's star astronaut, Alan B. Shepard, became a trailblazer. The world watched as his Redstone rocket sat on a launch pad at Cape Canaveral:
"... light this candle!"
When I was a little one of five or six years of age my mother told me the story of an important event from just a few years earlier. It was the United States of America's first manned spaceflight, and the astronaut's name was Alan Shepard. Everyone had gathered around the television to witness an important part of human history.
This was the first time they were able to see a manned rocket launch. The Soviets had not broadcast to the world, or even its own citizens, the lift-off of Vostok 1 three weeks earlier, and only after Yuri Gagarin returned safely to Earth from his orbital flight did they announce this stellar and humanity-changing feat. The name of the hero cosmonaut then travelled around the globe.
Citizens of the Earth could not be made to feel as participants in a great adventure until the National Aeronautics and Space Administration got to show its stuff.
Mercury-Redstone 3 ("Freedom 7") was to be a suborbital mission: Shepard's spacecraft would follow a planned ballistic trajectory. A big arc. The Mercury capsule would be shot into space, then float at high speed for some time before Earth's gravity initiated its re-entry.
One interesting element of the mission was that, unlike Gagarin's trip, which was fully automated, Shepard would take some control of his spacecraft. While up there, free from our planet's atmosphere, he manually operated the attitude control system in order to test Freedom 7's pitch, roll, and yaw capabilities, proving them to be properly functional.
The fifteen-minute voyage was a great technical success: The capsule went 101 miles up and flew 263 miles "downrange". The splashdown took place in the Atlantic Ocean. Shepard and Freedom 7 were recovered by waiting U.S. Navy vessels. (John Glenn's orbital flight would not happen for ten more months. Two cosmonauts will have already orbited the Earth by that time.)
Alan Bartlett Shepard Jr was chosen to pilot MR-3 some months earlier by Project Mercury head Robert Gilruth. Competition was fierce amongst the program's seven astronauts. Not only were these men skilled test pilots ― as were all U.S. astronauts in the earliest days of space flight ― but they were equipped with the latest in personality types: Gus Grissom, for instance, who would become the second American in space, did not say much minute-to-minute during training, but when he made it known he was about to whisper something to his fellow astronauts they would shut up, lean forward, and wait for the expected words of profundity.
Shepard, on the other hand, was more gregarious by nature. He not only spoke a more regular beat, when he had something important to relate you'd better be listening, and if you didn't take your work seriously or were at any time sloppy in your training, at least from his perspective, you were sure to hear about it.
They were of a special breed: Shepard, Virgil "Gus" Grissom, John Glenn, Scott Carpenter, Wally Schirra, Gordon Cooper, and Deke Slayton (who was grounded for medical reasons).
I know way too much about this whole subject. Before I go on any further I'm going to execute a deorbit burn. (See?)
But first:
On May 5th, 1961, sixty-four years ago today, NASA's star astronaut, Alan B. Shepard, became a trailblazer. The world watched as his Redstone rocket sat on a launch pad at Cape Canaveral:
"... light this candle!"
Sunday, May 4, 2025
Star Wars Day: It Was Some Unknown Force
"... It's called Star Wars. One set alone cost twelve million dollars."
That is how I first heard of Star Wars. It was the spring of 1977. I had the Grundig stereo on in the living room and as I walked from the kitchen into the dining room I heard an on-air host from Toronto radio station CKFM say the magic words. My reaction to the announced set cost must have been one of awe ― I later learned that the movie cost about ten million dollars to make ― but it was the name of this mysterious new flick that really intrigued me.
Star Wars not only hit the marketplace, but entered our culture....
That could have been the opening crawl to my two-part series recounting my introduction to Star Wars. It all started for me when I heard that radio piece. But everyone has a different story. And already I've read a few online; interesting stories, all.
In the pre-Internet age, it was a different game.
After learning of a new and anticipated movie going into production, one had to sometimes dig to learn more than what was readily available from the mainstream media outlets. For most pictures the wait was, more often than not, off our radars.
However, do not think for a moment that pre-release or pre-production hype used by the major film studios is a recently developed tool. Films from the 1970s were following an old model but with new tricks. Promotional featurettes, shot on 16mm film, were taken to a refined state during those years. Major studio productions like The Poseidon Adventure, The Towering Inferno, and King Kong were promoted heavily while they were still in production. In the case of Kong the casting of the new beauty was covered in local and national newscasts. I remember watching Buffalo television station WKBW late one evening and seeing newsfilm of Jessica Lange on stage holding a bouquet of flowers (it was a press conference).
Who could forget watching the excellent and dynamic promotional film showing the production crew of The Towering Inferno doing their magic? Irwin Allen directing over John Guillerman's head by using a megaphone was exciting and memorable. ("Mister Newman!") Accompanied by an authoritative but not staid voice over, bulldozers dug down into a sound stage floor in order to give the already voluminous space even more fly. These promotional shorts were nothing less than recruitment films. "I want to do that!"
By the time big pictures such as Poseidon, Inferno, Kong, Earthquake, and The Hindenburg hit the screens, an educated, of sorts, audience was awaiting. And I was an enthusiastic young member of that audience, in all five examples.
There was none of that for Star Wars. It just sneaked up on us....
That could have been the opening crawl to my two-part series recounting my introduction to Star Wars. It all started for me when I heard that radio piece. But everyone has a different story. And already I've read a few online; interesting stories, all.
In the pre-Internet age, it was a different game.
After learning of a new and anticipated movie going into production, one had to sometimes dig to learn more than what was readily available from the mainstream media outlets. For most pictures the wait was, more often than not, off our radars.
However, do not think for a moment that pre-release or pre-production hype used by the major film studios is a recently developed tool. Films from the 1970s were following an old model but with new tricks. Promotional featurettes, shot on 16mm film, were taken to a refined state during those years. Major studio productions like The Poseidon Adventure, The Towering Inferno, and King Kong were promoted heavily while they were still in production. In the case of Kong the casting of the new beauty was covered in local and national newscasts. I remember watching Buffalo television station WKBW late one evening and seeing newsfilm of Jessica Lange on stage holding a bouquet of flowers (it was a press conference).
Who could forget watching the excellent and dynamic promotional film showing the production crew of The Towering Inferno doing their magic? Irwin Allen directing over John Guillerman's head by using a megaphone was exciting and memorable. ("Mister Newman!") Accompanied by an authoritative but not staid voice over, bulldozers dug down into a sound stage floor in order to give the already voluminous space even more fly. These promotional shorts were nothing less than recruitment films. "I want to do that!"
By the time big pictures such as Poseidon, Inferno, Kong, Earthquake, and The Hindenburg hit the screens, an educated, of sorts, audience was awaiting. And I was an enthusiastic young member of that audience, in all five examples.
There was none of that for Star Wars. It just sneaked up on us....
Star Wars Day: Admit One Repeat in 1977
The forty-eighth anniversary of the original release of Star Wars is coming on the 25th of this month, and for us older folks, the question sometimes comes up: "How many times did you see Star Wars when it first came out?"
The movie made a lot of money because it was what's called "a repeater". Young people, especially, went back to the movie theatres over and over to see what was then a new thing; a high-quality comic book on the big screen.
Perhaps due to my age at the time, sixteen, I saw Star Wars, enjoyed it, and did not rush back to see it again. This was not helped by the fact that it left town after just three weeks. No doubt it was 'bicycled' to another theatre waiting for such a precious print. (King Kong had played for a full month across the street at the Big House.) Once was enough for me, however, as there were other movies to see and I was interested in many other things.
In September of 1977 I became friends with a guy at my high school who was a huge fan of the film. He was a couple of years younger — it was through a school club that we first met. Two or three weeks later, Star Wars reappeared in Barrie, Ontario, this time at one of the exciting Bayfield Mall's two screens, and my fan friend and I, with colourful umbrellas in hand, trotted off one rainy night to see again the silver screen's smash hit of '77.
I saw Star Wars two times that year: First, in July at the "Imperial 2" in beautiful downtown Barrie; then it was a tinny movie house in stunning uptown Barrie.
My favourite film in 1977 was Annie Hall. I saw it once.
The movie made a lot of money because it was what's called "a repeater". Young people, especially, went back to the movie theatres over and over to see what was then a new thing; a high-quality comic book on the big screen.
Perhaps due to my age at the time, sixteen, I saw Star Wars, enjoyed it, and did not rush back to see it again. This was not helped by the fact that it left town after just three weeks. No doubt it was 'bicycled' to another theatre waiting for such a precious print. (King Kong had played for a full month across the street at the Big House.) Once was enough for me, however, as there were other movies to see and I was interested in many other things.
In September of 1977 I became friends with a guy at my high school who was a huge fan of the film. He was a couple of years younger — it was through a school club that we first met. Two or three weeks later, Star Wars reappeared in Barrie, Ontario, this time at one of the exciting Bayfield Mall's two screens, and my fan friend and I, with colourful umbrellas in hand, trotted off one rainy night to see again the silver screen's smash hit of '77.
I saw Star Wars two times that year: First, in July at the "Imperial 2" in beautiful downtown Barrie; then it was a tinny movie house in stunning uptown Barrie.
My favourite film in 1977 was Annie Hall. I saw it once.
Book: The Rebel Christ (Coren)
The Rebel Christ
by
Michael Coren
Dundurn Press
2021
***
From a previous posting....
This atheist must keep an open mind, always. Right now I'm reading Toronto-based author Michael Coren's The Rebel Christ (2021). I actually bought the book last October, and read its "Introduction", but my reading queue is always pages long ― meaning it had to wait in line. The Rebel Christ is more than good, even at just a couple of chapters in....
The writer quotes G.K. Chesterton: "The Christian ideal has not been tried and found wanting. It has been found difficult; and left untried."
As readers here may have heard, members of the Christian right have been going barmy over the Reverend Coren's work. I doubt they've even read The Rebel Christ, or perhaps some have but find its reaffirmation of Christ's message of peace and love to be rebarbative.
Before I go back to coffee and reading, I must add: The author maintains a good sense of humour as he addresses certain concerns. This sent me funny....
"Personally, I prefer a nice card, a box of chocolates, and some roses."
Well folks, I have to say that The Rebel Christ is "required reading at the Academy".
So you know where I stand on Christianity and religion in general, I am a card-carrying atheist. As a matter of fact, I have the hard-to-acquire "Platinum Card". As I wrote in April of 2017, I rejected 'faith' very early in my life. "From a Dependent Brat: The Church of Me" goes into a little detail as to when and how this happened. I've not wavered since then.
Now that you have an IMF (Impossible Missions Force) dossier on me, here I go....
Non-believers and believers would have much to glean from Michael Coren's effort to set the record straight on a few matters; matters that have been hijacked and distorted by those who wrap themselves in the bible, even if they've never actually read it, to reaffirm what they believe were Christ's teachings. As Mr Coren states assuredly more than a few times in his work, Jesus never actually addressed certain issues, and if he did, it was ever so slightly. Too often his teachings have been perverted beyond all recognition: an interpretation of an interpretation, scrubbed of any chromatic scaling to fit one's already dichotomous thinking.
I would agree that Jesus preached love and forgiveness above all. (What's so hard to understand?)
This atheist has adopted a certain phrase, one heard a lot these days from non-believers such as myself: "Even I'm more Christian than many of these so-called Christians."
Final note: Travelling on Twitter/X, especially, introduces one to a lot of far-right anger, anger all too often suggesting violence. Check out a given bio and see "Loves Jesus".
Yeah, buddy, I believe you.
But I do believe Michael Coren. The Rebel Christ is outstanding, and highly recommended... take it from this "card-carrying atheist".
"Please believe me when I say that Jesus would not hurt or abuse,
would not reject,
would not exclude."
Friday, May 2, 2025
Athot for the Day: An Important Part to Play
Funny how what we call here in North America, "toilet paper", they call in the UK, "toilet roles".
Thursday, May 1, 2025
Card: Communist Party of Canada (2025)
I came home one day last week to find a card on my door, a two-colour card from the Communist Party of Canada. Fine, as Canada was in election mode political parties were promoting themselves and their policies... or lack of same.
This student of history, with a focus on those former "Eastern Bloc" states such as the Soviet Union (USSR) and East Germany, especially East Germany, has something of an opinion here....
"You tell 'em, Simon!"
"Oh, I will. You know me too well."
Communism does not work.
Communism does not work.
Communism does not work.
At all.
I'll just leave it at that.
"Feel better, Si?"
"Do I ever."
Tuesday, April 29, 2025
Four! Big Big Bad Bad Days for Canada's CPC Party
October 19, 2015 (the dispatched: Stephen Harper)
October 21, 2019 (the dispatched: Andrew Scheer)
October 20, 2021 (the dispatched: Erin O'Toole)
April 28, 2025 (the dispatched: Pierre Poilievre)
The Conservative Party of Canada and its brethren have enjoyed four consecutive losses: losses made more potent when one considers that the Liberal Party of Canada was considered to be vulnerable in the federal elections of 2019 and 2021, and was running far far behind in many polling samples run over the last two years, though that changed soon after Mark Carney was elected last month by his own party to replace Justin Trudeau, who stepped down as Liberal leader in January. Yesterday's election was a grand turnaround, to put it mildly. Conservative Party Leader, and resident bigmouth, Pierre Poilievre plummeted in the polling, and effectively lost at the polls. The final tally wrote a minority, albeit a healthy minority, in all three cases.
What gives? Well, for starters, the CPC giveth away and the LPC taketh away.
Much has been made in some quarters about the fact, and it is an incontrovertible fact, that the Conservatives won more votes in the 2021 election. (The 2025 election's final numbers are not in as of yet.) In regards to the issue of this 'popular vote', which Canada's Parliamentary system of government does not have, I make much of the fact, and it is a dirty little fact, that Pierre Trudeau and the Liberals won many many more votes in total than did Joe Clark and his Progressive Conservatives in the 1979 federal election.
Liberals: 4,595,319
Progressive Conservatives: 4,111,606
Guess who became Prime Minister of Canada....
Sunday, April 27, 2025
Certain Notices on My Door: Liberal Party of Canada
My only possible reaction to those notices would be:
Yep.
— Chrystia Freeland is my only choice —
Sunday Fun: U.S. Fantasy TV — Opening Titles
Project: U.F.O.
A "mid-season replacement" series, Project U.F.O. satiated those viewers who were into tales of Earth visitors from outer space. The NBC series premiered in February of 1978 to some fanfare, and I was there. So too were other family members.
Project U.F.O. was a Jack Webb production, and to make sure there was no mistake who was behind this series, the man himself narrated the opening titles with his trademarked voice and authoritative, and dry toast, diction.
A typical episode featured stars William Jordan and Caskey Swaim (or the second season's Edward Winter) investigating a UFO sighting. Over the television hour the U.S. Air Force's intrepid special team would interview each individual, who in turn, would recount their story of the event; in Rashomon-like fashion, but without outright contradiction (they did witness something not of this Earth, after all), we'd see essentially the same sequence but with variations based on that person's particular and unique perspective.
Now that I think about it, the show could be dull at times, even if stories of Unidentified Flying Objects were "in" back then. Keep in mind that Steven Spielberg's overrated feature film Close Encounters of the Third Kind had been released just a few months before our subject series hit the airwaves — the electronic take trying, hoping, to catch the interstellar wave. In October of 1977, the Canadian-produced feature film Starship Invasions had drawn some of us to the ticket wicket. Now that flying saucer action, man, was real. Like, far out!
The final episode of Project U.F.O. landed in July of 1979.
The Flash (1990)
In September of 1990, soon after arriving back in Canada after spending a few weeks in England, I heard chatter about a television series that had premiered while I was away: The Flash
Back then it was possible to have a series sneak up on you undetected. Given that I left dramatic television programs in my past, not being up to speed just compounded the surprise for me. (My forward scanner had long needed a replacement vacuum tube; and I had long abandoned reading Starlog Magazine, which was a source of vital information for any geek.)
I took in a few episodes and was impressed with the show's scope and its apparent healthy budget. (The new Flash series looks exactly like what it is: a low budget television series, but with lots of CGI — the CGI package deal so prevalent in television production today.)
The opening titles, complete with Danny Elfman's Batmanish theme music, are pretty propulsive. At the time I felt the "starring" bits were a little goofy. Oh, yes... Amanda Pays. I had almost forgotten about that attraction. She had helped draw me three years earlier to Max Headroom. Good series.
The Flash has its fans, but, unfortunately for fans at the time, the series came and went in a flashcube flash — lasting just 22 episodes. It's a shame, really, as series star John Wesley Shipp was pertectly fine inside and outside his special suit, and Mark Hamill was great as the Trickster, a guest shot in two shots, but memorable ones, and one effectively-evil character future-ready.
Having written the above, I remembered that I have the DVD set, The Flash: Complete Series.
Sunday Fun?
Friday, April 25, 2025
Picturing: New Tall Buildings at Yonge & Bloor Toronto
While walking with a friend yesterday who was visiting from out of town, we took in a view, way up.
Toronto's intersection of Yonge and Bloor has changed so much in the last few years. Whether this 'progress' is good or not, there certainly are opportunities for one to kink his or her neck to get that special perspective not so abundant in that area till recently. As I fumbled with my Canon EOS mirrorless, friend Chris held my coffee. I joked with him about the steady stream of passers by — it was noon hour. "These folk see me and are probably thinking I'm visiting the big city for the first time." Being a longtime resident of this great city before moving away a couple of years ago, he laughed at my observation. Though I planted myself here in the 1980s, no doubt the look on my face read as: "Wow. Look at that tall building! I gotta take a snap for the kinfolk back home."
Suck it up, sunshine. They're goin' up everywhere, like mushrooms after a bout of acid rain. There's something about condos I don't like, certainly a surfeit of out-of-control condominium construction.
Nice view, eh?
Postscript: Behind us is the shuttered "Yonge & Bloor" Hudson's Bay store. It closed its doors three years ago. As announced earlier this week, "The Bay", as a whole, is now in liquidation. But those shiny-new condos sure are nice! "Yee-haw!"
Thursday, April 24, 2025
Picturing: An Impressive Toronto Hotel Room
A friend was visiting from out of town. This morning I met him at his hotel, the W Toronto, which is on the north side of Bloor Street, just east of Yonge.
He took me up to his suite.
The door opened.
Wow. I was impressed. I'd be happy with a cot in a room ten feet square and a past-its-prime 'tube' television displaying snow.
The hotel staff was well trained, greeting me when I got to the lobby as though I was royalty. I really like this place. I live just two subway stops from the W Toronto, but it may be worth checking in; first I should check to see what the rates are....
Postscript: That Tim Hortons coffee cup on the cabinet is mine. I didn't leave it there.
An Experimental Film Short from The Funnel: Unways
In March I wrote a piece on my experiences with Toronto's experimental film collective, "The Funnel" (1977 - 1989). My involvement with the group was from sitting in front of a screen during late 1984 and early 1985. Those twice-weekly screenings were more than worth my time, but for some reason, probably because I was in my first year of film school at that time, I did not become a member or get to know any of the gang.
One such (filmmaker) gang member was Paul McGowan.
While looking up "the funnel toronto" on YouTube a few years ago, I stumbled upon the above short, Unways. Immediately I spent fifteen minutes sitting in front of my monitor screen soaking up the filmmaker's early-1980s Super-8 effort.
It was time well spent, as I became immersed in Mr McGowan's film; losing myself in its hypnotic flashes, its fixed stare looking down the length of a TTC (Toronto Transit Commission) subway train car. In some ways, Unways reminded me of Jonas Mekas' hypnotic 12-minute flickerama, Notes On the Circus (1966).
Paul McGowan enlisted the help of Funnel stalwart John Porter in execution of the time-lapse photographics, and for the fine audio track build, he worked with T. Michael Cluer.
I wish more Funnel shorts were on YouTube, and, I now regret not having maintained my weekly visits to that special venue. A lot of experimental short films have been lost to the ravages of time.
Monday, April 21, 2025
A Monday Morning Smile: the Cat with the Bat
"Your bloody cat brought a bat into the house!"
I was bleary eyed, still plenty tired, but I knew what my mother was trying to tell me through my thankfully closed bedroom door.
My cat had done something bad, so I wasted no time in waking up to face the challenge of extracting a cute little bat. There it lay, dead, a poor unfortunate victim of a wayward pussycat, on the floor outside my bedroom. ("A present? For me?! Thanks so much, Willie.")
Training in expired-bat removal was not something I had taken formally, but I knew that in the back room hung the Runkko "Bat Extractor": Two tennis rackets. (Of course I did not use my own lemon-yellow racket.)
The next day my mother explained to all what she had witnessed: "He would run to the top of the stairs with the bat in his mouth. He would then spit it out and bat it with his paw to the bottom of the stairs. Then he would run to the bottom, grab the bat with his teeth, run to the top of the stairs...."
Willie was a nice and fun cat. Great personality. I miss him... sans bat.
I was bleary eyed, still plenty tired, but I knew what my mother was trying to tell me through my thankfully closed bedroom door.
My cat had done something bad, so I wasted no time in waking up to face the challenge of extracting a cute little bat. There it lay, dead, a poor unfortunate victim of a wayward pussycat, on the floor outside my bedroom. ("A present? For me?! Thanks so much, Willie.")
Training in expired-bat removal was not something I had taken formally, but I knew that in the back room hung the Runkko "Bat Extractor": Two tennis rackets. (Of course I did not use my own lemon-yellow racket.)
The next day my mother explained to all what she had witnessed: "He would run to the top of the stairs with the bat in his mouth. He would then spit it out and bat it with his paw to the bottom of the stairs. Then he would run to the bottom, grab the bat with his teeth, run to the top of the stairs...."
Willie was a nice and fun cat. Great personality. I miss him... sans bat.
Sunday, April 20, 2025
Paramount Pictures' Stage M — Elmer Bernstein
In a piece I wrote last December I mentioned a 'famous' film studio's music recording stage: Paramount Pictures' Stage M. Many scores were recorded there, including those for: Sunset Boulevard; Psycho; Breakfast at Tiffany's; Out of Africa; The Hunt for Red October; Goodwill Hunting; Road to Perdition; The Bourne Identity; The Island; WALL-E; and many others. Music for Paramount television shows was recorded there, too, including episode background cues for programmes such as Mission: Impossible and Star Trek.
Recordings were not limited to instrumental parts. "White Christmas", "Mona Lisa", "Que Sera, Sera", and "Moon River" are some famous motion picture songs laid down at Stage M, by artists such as Bing Crosby, Nat King Cole, and Doris Day.
That storied recording studio is now gone, having been closed in 2006, but through all the men and women who followed the batons of music men such as Victor Young, Bernard Herrmann, Henry Mancini, John Barry, and Jerry Goldsmith, its acoustical memories live on.
___
The late great film composer Elmer Bernstein recorded his classic score for The Ten Commandments at "M". (He replaced Victor Young when the veteran composer fell ill.) The film itself doesn't deserve, but needs, this brilliant work.
Happy Easter!
Elmer Bernstein conducts a cue for The Ten Commandments (1956).
* Photos reproduced with permission by The Bernstein Family Trust *
Thursday, April 17, 2025
That's No Easter Bunny Answering Machine Message!
Many years ago my roommate at the time and I decided to have some fun: we recorded a message for answering machine which could be best described as... "daring".
Dave had a four-track audio recorder; it used cassette tape, the kind of tape used as the 'outgoing' message on my Panasonic answering machine. Inspiration hit the two of us fast and hard. We wrote the script quickly and prepared to record the message. In my music collection I have a CD titled "Hollywood's Greatest Hits Volume Two". On one track Dave and I laid down Elmer Bernstein's theme from the 1956 opus The Ten Commandments, specifically, the pastoral passage right after the bombast proper ― the background music we hear playing under the voice of God.
Next: Dave's recording of the voice of God. His voice was better than my nasally own for this important document. After we had the two tracks down it was a matter of giving the commanding orator some reverb. (A dry voice track would inspire no one, no matter how persuasive the text.)
We were very happy with our effort.
As the British would say, "the show went out".
The reaction was much greater than what we were expecting. Callers who got the outgoing message thought it was very funny, hilarious. What happened was the word quickly got around about our answering machine commandments. People would call just to hear the message, and since Dave and I were busy guys, chances were they would get the machine.
A mutual friend went into hysterics when we gave him a live playback, but after he regained his composure, he told us his concern that some folk might not find our commandments humorous.
After some time Dave and I pulled the work. Unfortunately it's gone; we know not where.
Here's a transcription, but please don't mistake it for scripture:
"Luuuke. I mean... Mosesss. Thou shalt leave a message at the tone. Leave thy name and numberrr...
Dave had a four-track audio recorder; it used cassette tape, the kind of tape used as the 'outgoing' message on my Panasonic answering machine. Inspiration hit the two of us fast and hard. We wrote the script quickly and prepared to record the message. In my music collection I have a CD titled "Hollywood's Greatest Hits Volume Two". On one track Dave and I laid down Elmer Bernstein's theme from the 1956 opus The Ten Commandments, specifically, the pastoral passage right after the bombast proper ― the background music we hear playing under the voice of God.
Next: Dave's recording of the voice of God. His voice was better than my nasally own for this important document. After we had the two tracks down it was a matter of giving the commanding orator some reverb. (A dry voice track would inspire no one, no matter how persuasive the text.)
We were very happy with our effort.
As the British would say, "the show went out".
The reaction was much greater than what we were expecting. Callers who got the outgoing message thought it was very funny, hilarious. What happened was the word quickly got around about our answering machine commandments. People would call just to hear the message, and since Dave and I were busy guys, chances were they would get the machine.
A mutual friend went into hysterics when we gave him a live playback, but after he regained his composure, he told us his concern that some folk might not find our commandments humorous.
After some time Dave and I pulled the work. Unfortunately it's gone; we know not where.
Here's a transcription, but please don't mistake it for scripture:
"Luuuke. I mean... Mosesss. Thou shalt leave a message at the tone. Leave thy name and numberrr...
(at this point Dave's voice speeds into a 'Maxwell Smart')
"... And when I get a chance, I'll call you back!"
Wednesday, April 16, 2025
Tuesday, April 15, 2025
Vid: Four in the Cosmos — 1969 Soviet Short Film
Studying up on the history of the Soviet space program is one of my research pleasures. Sputnik and the Soviet Space Challenge and The Soviet Space Race with Apollo are two massive books — in size and detail — by space historian Asif A. Siddiqi, and act as significant and essential contributors to my knowledge of a technologically and politically complicated space effort. It's quite possible I cannot be satiated on this subject.
("V'Ger needs the information.")
Used to good effect is Georgy Sviridov's brilliant orchestral piece, "Time, Forward!", originally composed for a film of the same name just four years earlier but already finding a life outside its original intent. (It rolls with driving steel works machinery rhythms similar in collectivist spirit to those of Alexander Mosolov's 1927 piece, "Iron Foundry".)
My Russian is non-existent, so I asked a Russian friend of mine to translate the screen chatter in basic terms: He said that nothing much is revealed; in particular, the voice-over is a "near-to-empty official story of the flight"; nothing to give anything away.
On Saturday I posted a piece on Yuri Gagarin, the first man to experience space flight, and yesterday I wrote about my memories of the near-disastrous Apollo 13 moon mission.
To keep on a astronautics/cosmonautics theme this week, embedded above is Four in the Cosmos, a fine if unrevealing 20-minute motion picture document from 1969 on the Soyuz 4 and Soyuz 5 orbital docking mission from January of that year. Thousands of 16mm copies (and more than a few 35mm 'blow-ups') would have been made of this 'promotional' short, for distribution to schools, libraries, and cinemas, large and small, across the USSR and its satellite states.
Used to good effect is Georgy Sviridov's brilliant orchestral piece, "Time, Forward!", originally composed for a film of the same name just four years earlier but already finding a life outside its original intent. (It rolls with driving steel works machinery rhythms similar in collectivist spirit to those of Alexander Mosolov's 1927 piece, "Iron Foundry".)
My Russian is non-existent, so I asked a Russian friend of mine to translate the screen chatter in basic terms: He said that nothing much is revealed; in particular, the voice-over is a "near-to-empty official story of the flight"; nothing to give anything away.
(Not advertised was Soyuz 5's bumpy return to Earth.)
As short-form filmmaking, Four in the Cosmos is effective and, at times, almost poetic.
As short-form filmmaking, Four in the Cosmos is effective and, at times, almost poetic.
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